


The Alayne Show

by Amymel86



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M, Modern AU, The Truman Show AU, jonsa-week
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-24
Updated: 2017-10-24
Packaged: 2019-01-22 11:03:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,966
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12480112
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Amymel86/pseuds/Amymel86
Summary: He was cast to be Alayne's new love interest on the world's most famous reality TV show. Could Jon save her? Could he make her SEE? Make her question her reality?Can he succeed in all that without falling in love with her?





	The Alayne Show

**Author's Note:**

> My entry for today's 'whispers and secrets' prompt for Jonsa Week on tumblr.
> 
> The Truman Show au

It was more than unfair - it was downright cruel, Jon thought as Alayne's summer sky eyes took in his sweat-soaked tee, as her cheeks began to glow a pretty pink, and as her breathing seemed to hitch. She swallowed thickly and cleared her throat.

"Um..h-here you go Aegon, I...um...made some lemonade...and it is terribly hot out here" she smiled nervously, handing over the tall glass filled with sweet cloudy liquid and ice cubes clinking together. She'd even added a little sprig of mint.

"Thank you Alayne" he said earnestly, taking the cold glass with condensation droplets rolling down it, making sure his fingertips touched hers like he'd been told to do.

She bit her bottom lip and Jon was reminded just how cruel this whole situation was all over again. Cruel to her, and cruel to him.

“That’s alright” she tittered nervously “it’s the least I can do, what with you turning me over in bed - MY FLOWER BED! - Uh...turning the soil - the soil in the flower beds, I mean” Alayne hastily corrected, flushing a gorgeous shade of pink. “I-.. um... I didn’t get a chance to do it myself last year, and Harry - well, Harry doesn’t like gardening in the slightest, and, ah, now the earth has become terribly-...ah..” Alayne glances at Jon’s arms before she forces a gulp down her throat “ _-firm_.”

* * *

 

_“Good, she’s flustered”_  came the voice in his concealed earpiece, _“now take your shirt off and wipe your sweat away with it”_. Jon had to try hard to suppress a roll of his eyes but he begrudgingly obeyed. Alayne’s mouth hung slack when he glanced at her again, her eyes taking in as much of his body as they could. Jon couldn’t say that he was totally unaffected by the longing in her expression - quite the contrary - he’d be more than happy to let Alayne touch all the sweat-slicked skin that her pretty baby-blues were taking in. He just wished for it to be without all the hidden cameras that were currently trained on them.

 _“Ok, now gulp down that lemonade like you’re on a Diet Coke break”_  came the tiny irritating buzz in his ear, and yet again he followed his orders from above. Jon hated himself more and more for it as he noticed Alayne lick her lips from the corner of his eye.

Six months he’d had this job. Six months he’s been broadcast to tv screens across the globe as  _‘Alayne Hardyng’s next love interest’_. He’s done tv, radio and magazine interviews on what it is like to work on set of the world’s most famous reality show. But it’s been six years that he’s been involved in this undercover mission.

It all started when the Starks halfway convinced him. Their little baby girl, stolen from her crib 26 years ago  _was_  the famed unknowing reality star. 

“It’s  _her!_  I  _know it!_ ” Catelyn had exclaimed, her hand gesturing to the screen showing the channel dedicated to The Alayne Show 24/7. The redhead had been brushing her teeth in front of the camera concealed by her bathroom mirror at the time.

No one in the room answered Catelyn as she took each one of her family members in, imploring with her eyes, pleading for help, begging for someone to give her her child back. Her gaze landed on Jon and she sat back down next to her husband. “I feel it in my bones. _It’s her_. Alayne is Sansa.  _Our Sansa._ ”

No one could prove it of course, and many that she’d told the tale to assumed her nothing more than a mother grieving for her lost babe, offering only a nod and a sympathetic smile. But Catelyn knew. Catelyn knew many things.

She knew that Mockingbird TV Productions (the producers of the show) were owned by one Petyr Baelish. The very same Petyr Baelish who had begged her to leave her husband on more than one occasion. The very same Petyr Baelish whom she had had to take out a restraining order against. The very same Petyr Baelish that she suspected was responsible for the disappearance of her daughter.

And yet nothing could be proved. Paperwork was presented in court that told clearly the story of how the TV network became the  _‘guardian’_  of one  _‘orphaned’_  baby girl from Braavos. Baelish, it seemed, had lots of powerful friends - and with lots of powerful friends, comes the ability forge papers and to shut down enquiries.

Alayne was taken care of and filmed round the clock once the cameras started rolling some 25 years ago. In those early days, most viewers tuned in for the background soap opera that were the actors surrounding the girl, but gradually, steadily, the show morphed into moulding, manipulating and broadcasting every single thing that Alayne did.

When she was 6, she made friends with a girl who was far too shy to be at all entertaining - so the poor wisp of a child was replaced with a plethora of companion options for Alayne to choose from - all with their pushy ‘stage Moms’ waiting off set for their child’s chance to shine on screen.

When she was 14, bets were placed on which of the 3 boys she seemed to like would be her first kiss.

When she was 17, Harry Hardyng was cast and thrust into her manufactured life as a potential love interest. He fed her the lines he was given in his earpiece, he followed orders from the directors above, and when he was 20 and she 19, he took her virginity as was requested of him. The show will claim that the ‘scene’ was shot tastefully, focusing in on the pattern of the blanket that Harry was told to be sure draped over them both. But the jerked movements and noises were unmistakable and had made Jon feel sick to his stomach.

He remembered that unease he had felt on more than one occasion upon watching the ‘show’. And so he had agreed. He would help the Starks. He wasn’t completely sure that Alayne was who Catelyn claimed her to be, but that did not matter - no one’s life should be under such scrutiny, such vigilance, so manipulated, so fake. Alayne’s life should not exist purely for the world’s entertainment.

He’d taken up classes at Winterfell College for Performing Arts and waited for the next casting call to come out of Mockingbird Productions. Harry had let the fame get to his head - when he was outside of the vast closed set of ‘The Vale’, (on a ‘business trip’ - or so he would tell Alayne) he drank and slept around with fans, not caring one jot for the vows he’d made on screen to the unaware redhead in the white dress. It was terrible publicity for the show - the producers had decided he needed to go.

And so Jon and a few other potential new suitors were cast. They were given their character names and backgrounds before being let lose on set to see which of them caught Alayne’s eye. Trained behavioural specialists watched her every recorded move - a lip bite, a cheek flush, a nervous giggle or playing with her hair. They had picked up that she had definitely taken a shine to Aegon (Jon’s character name) when he purposefully crashed his shopping cart into hers at the supermarket. And so, Aegon Targaryen became the Hardyng’s new next door neighbour not long after that.

So far, the producer’s narrative was working well alongside the plan hatched with the Starks - get her attention, get her interested, get her to trust him. The network would have him seduce her whilst Harry’s character became less and less appealing (Lead Director Baelish would prefer that Aegon be enough to tempt Alayne into adultery, but Harry’s own cheating narrative has been penned as a back up should she not take a bite of the forbidden fruit). Jon had to keep reminding himself of his objective each and every time that he had to manipulate and seduce sweet Alayne, but in truth, he thinks she may have unwittingly seduced him somewhere along the way too. It had never been part of the plan to fall in love with her.

“I’m off to my business conference Honey!” Harry shouted from the backdoor of the Hardyng house. Alayne jumped out of her skin and quickly scurried away from Jon and towards her husband to see him off with a kiss and a hug. Harry scowled at Jon over Alayne’s shoulder as he held her tight - he was aware of the new narrative - he knew he was slowly being replaced. “See you around  _Targeryen_ ” he called before turning back into the house. Jon wondered how many new pieces of drunken footage would be uploaded to YouTube of the  _‘star’_  by the end of the week?

 _“This’ll be your chance Snow”_  said the voice of one of the show’s directors in his ear  _“get her to trust you while he’s gone. Make her forget all about Harry Hardyng”_  Jon nodded to himself, but he knew they could see it.

* * *

 

“What  _THE FUCK_  did you think you were playing at with a line like that Snow?” Alliser Thorne spat in his face during some downtime backstage. “ _Do you ever wonder if any of this is real? If the Gods watch us for their own entertainment?_!” he screeched, his face fast becoming raspberry red as he parroted back Jon’s words.

“I just wanted to test her, sir” Jon lied “I wanted to see if she suspected anything - if anything in operations needed to be re-addressed.”

That wasn’t it at all of course, he’d willed -  _silently prayed for_  -  Alayne to think -  _think_  - if there was anything about her life that felt at all out of the ordinary or strange. He’d wanted her to start questioning everything and anything that was presented to her in this place of make-believe. Alayne had only pinched her lips into a half smile and let out a solitary  _“perhaps”_.

She’d started to trust him a lot over the past six days though, he could see that - people were telling him that in his earpiece. Only their final objective and his, did not align. 

“You  _ever_  pull another stunt like that- ” Thorne jabbed a finger into Jon’s chest as he seethed and hissed out his words “and I’ll see to it that you’ll never find work in the entertainment industry again.  _Understand?_ ”

“Yes, sir”

“Get out of my sight and get back on set! You’re meant to be trying to fuck her - not make her  _think,_ for fuck’s sake!”

Jon was let back ‘on stage’ through a hidden door that brings you through the back of a little grocery store. Then, he was back in the pretend little town of Vale along with dozens and dozens of other actors and extras - all milling about as if they were going about their ordinary days.

 _“She’s at home doing some gardening - hurry and you might get to take your shirt off again”_  came the voice in his earpiece, Jon didn’t appreciate the condescending tone but he picked up his walking pace anyway.

* * *

 

He’d spent the afternoon helping Alayne plant her bedding plants, mowing the lawn and weeding the borders. He’d had to shoo away her many thanks with what he hoped were warm smiles and confessions of a wide open schedule anyway.

“Thank you Aegon, I really appreciate your help. It was nice to have company” she said as they both returned her gardening tools to her small shed. “Harry and I don’t really share many of the same hobbies and it was-” she spun around from where she’d had her back to him, stacking the now empty plastic plant pots on a shelf. Her breath caught in her throat and her eyes widened at her sudden realisation of Jon’s proximity inside the tiny little wooden structure “-lovely to....to...” she stuttered, staring at Jon’s mouth. He took a very tentative step forward.

 _“That’s it! You’ve got her!_ ” came the voice in Jon’s ear.

“Lovely to-?” Jon urged her on, his own gaze locked on her parted lips .

“To have someone to-” she whispered as he continued to inch closer and closer, his eyes bore into hers now, asking permission to touch her, hold her, kiss her -  _anything_  she might grant him. 

He was close now - so close that he could count the dusting of tiny freckles on the bridge of her nose, so close that he could feel the faint brush of her breath as her expel of it came in fits and starts. And then the pleasant illusion was shattered as his earpiece came to life again.

_“Pretend she had dirt on her face - stroke her cheek and keep your hand there.”_

Jon silently cursed this whole scenario for the hundredth time. He would give anything for this moment to be private - for there not to be hidden cameras trained on them this very moment. He thought of all those employees of the show, watching his and Alayne’s -  _no, Sansa’s_  -  interactions on all the multiple screens in the monitoring and editing room. He thought of the millions of viewers world-wide currently holding their breath, wondering if this was to be the moment that Alayne Hardyng would finally kiss her new love interest. He thought of the Starks watching as well, willing him to gain her trust, to open her eyes, to  _save_  her.

And then he thought of the woman in front of him. He was doing it for  _her_  - not anyone else.

Jon did as instructed, tentatively raising his hand to touch her. Alayne’s eyes widened until he smiled comfortingly at her. “You have a little bit of dirt on your cheek” he explained, cupping the side of her face and gently stroking away imaginary soil.

“Thank you” she whispered in return, her voice scratchy and quiet, her eyes mapping his face.

Jon’s thumb continued stroking her soft skin before he lowered it and brushed along her bottom lip, his own breathing now becoming slightly laboured as the pad of his thumb swiped once, twice, three times over it back and forth, ever so gently. His heart hammered in his chest as he stared at the movement. The tip of Alayne’s tongue peeked out and licked at his thumb, causing him to bite on his own lip.

_“You’ve got her buddy. Hook, line, and sinker.”_

If it hadn’t have been for that interruption from one of the directors, he may have fallen trap to the manipulation himself. 

“It’s not real” he whispered.

“What?” she asked a little absentmindedly, her eyes still intent on his mouth.

Jon brought his other hand up to cup her face, to try and make her listen, make her  _think_. “All of this, it’s not real, it’s all pretend, all for you.”

 _“What are you doing Snow?”_ Said the voice in his ear. Jon ignored it.

“You’re whole life-” he paused, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath “-you’re whole life has been manufactured around you - it’s not real - you’re being watched the whole time.”

 _“Alright, get security down there NOW!”_ Jon heard, his heart rate accelerated as he held Alayne’s face in his grasp.

“I don’t understand. Aegon, what are you-”

“My name’s not Aegon, it’s Jon, Jon Snow, and-and you’re not Alayne” he flustered, realising how crazy and panicked he sounded “your name is Sansa Stark, you were taken as a baby - kidnapped - to become a star of a reality tv show-”

“Aegon” she laughed nervously “-I’ve never been on TV.”

Jon groaned, closing his eyes and pressed his forehead to hers, breathing sharply “you have, you have, love. You just don’t know it....look-” he broke away from her and grabbed a little terracotta plant pot. He smashed it on the shed floor making Alayne yelp.

 _“SOMEONE GET SECURITY DOWN THERE NOW! SNOW - YOU FUCK-WIT STOP WHAT YOU’RE DOING!!”_ Jon ignored his commands from his earpiece.

He bent down and fished out the small black piece of technology from amongst the shattered shards of plant pot. “This is a microphone - to record better, clearer sound of our conversations” he said, handing it to a befuddled looking Alayne whilst he searched around for more proof. Jon ripped off the top covering of the lawn mower - he was sure there must be a hidden camera in there.

 _“You’re damaging company property, Snow - the lawsuits will be mounting up!”_ Jon heard in his ear. He yanked out the tiny, skin coloured piece and showed Alayne.

“Look - this is how they tell me what to do” he implored, almost shaking as he begged her to believe, begged her to  _see._ There was a commotion coming from the house that drew his attention briefly as he nervously shifted his weight from each foot. Alayne stood stock still. “They’re going to come and get me - to take me away. I wasn’t meant to tell you -  _no one_  is meant to tell you. You’re supposed to go on, not questioning  _anything_  that these fucking TV producers present to you. But when will it end?” His frantic eyes searched hers as he took her hand with both of his.

“Step away from him miss! He’s dangerous!” a man in a suit shouted from the back door as he and several others bolted towards the shed. Jon yanked the door shut and held onto it as the men were still sprinting across the large lawn. He turned to Alayne -  _to Sansa_  - as he continued to hold onto the door handle.

“I know it sounds crazy, but you need to start questioning everything. None of this is real. Everyone around you is an actor paid to play a part.” Sansa shook her head but didn’t say a word. “You’ve never even been outside the town! You’ve  _never_  left Vale?! Why do you think that is Alayne?  _Why?!_ ”

“I-I have anxiety about travelling, and-and I can’t drive so-”

“No, no” Jon shook his head, the men outside began to pull on the door, banging on it and shouting through the wood. “ _They_  want you to believe that. They instilled that fear in you and prevented you from learning-” he really was struggling with holding the door now as it kept getting yanked a fraction open, his arms straining to keep them out.

“Who is this  _‘they’_ , Aegon?! I don’t understand!” she cried, her eyes scared as they flit from his face and the door.

“The TV producers - they control everything around you! Everything! Except-” Jon had both hands on the door handle, pulling with all his might, resisting the tugs from the other side as the men continued to thump and shout.

“Except what?”

“Except me” Jon declared, letting go of the door and grabbing Sansa’s face between his hands before pressing his lips to hers and kissing her for all he’s worth - as if this -  _this kiss_  - could be any kind of proof to his truth.

It didn’t last of course - for those few seconds of sweet, brief contact, Jon felt Sansa  _almost_  melt into him, but before he knew it, he was being roughly pulled away from her and shoved out of the shed.

“Aegon!” Sansa called over the chaos as he was being manhandled away from her.

“It’s Jon! Jon Snow!” he shouted as he fought against the three men wrestling him away “get out! Demand to be released and come and find me Sansa! Find me, Sansa Stark!”

Those were the last moments that Jon remembers being on set of The Alayne Show before someone tasered him to the ground, his world turning black and narrowing around the image of her alarmed face as she stepped out of the shed. And then, that moment was gone too.

* * *

 

One month later and he’s waiting outside the vast studio called ‘The Vale’, he’s surrounded by a huge crowd carrying picket signs with ‘When will it end?’ or ‘Free Sansa Stark’ on them.

The Starks are there too, next him, intently staring up at the huge outdoor screen that the pretentious operation normally shows the live stream of The Alayne Show on - just in case you didn’t already know what was being filmed inside.

Catelyn was clutching a small stuffed toy wolf as her eyes never left the screen, she mumbled and whispered words to it as Ned wrapped his arm around her and held her tight.  Jon wondered if the toy had been Sansa’s as a baby.

There was a palpable excitement that ran through the crowd. Since Jon’s famous exit from the show. The producers had worked hard to try and convince her that Jon had been an escaped patient from an institution for the mentally ill. She had seemed to buy into it too, until she started asking questions, querying everyone around her, quarrelling with Harry and shaking up her routine. She started acting strangely, started being spontaneous, she even tried to leave Vale only to be told that all the buses out of the town were cancelled and the main bridge was closed for maintenance, or the weather anywhere outside of the little town was forecast to be treacherous. 

Jon felt sure that he had gotten through to her. Surely now she must see it?

That notion was confirmed when she started seemingly talking to herself in the bathroom mirror as she brushed her teeth yesterday.  _“Let me out you bastards”_  she breathed, looking intently at her own reflection - not realising that she was also staring out of the tv sets of millions.

Jon’s departure from the show had sparked a long overdue world-wide protest of human rights.  _Free Sansa Stark_  became a massive news item and the show was being pressured to let their star go. Jon had done many an interview imploring more people to join the cause and sign the petition or participate in protests.

And now they held their breath.

“Just let me go” Sansa whispered on the huge screen on the side of the building. She was alone in her bathroom again. The crowd went quiet as the watched her sit on the floor, her back against the tub. “Please” she whimpered, a tear rolling down her cheek. 

Catelyn began to sob where she stood next to Jon.

Suddenly, there was a soft knock from the inside of her bathroom closet, where she keeps their towels. Sansa jumped up in surprise and stared at the door for a time. 

The crowd murmured around him as Jon’s heart thumped against his ribs. He wondered if this would be it? Will she finally be free?

Everyone watched as she looked around nervously and then tentatively wrapped her hand around the handle of the closet door. She screwed her eyes shut and took a deep breath as the watching world held theirs.

Sansa yanked open the door and gasped at what met her - not her shelves and shelves of towels, but a hidden staircase deep past the normal depth that Sansa knew the closet to be.

Jon had used a staircase or two like that on set, he knew that it would spiral down to the underground operations department below, where people busied about the industrial sized ‘back-stage’ space with headsets on, barking orders about what ‘Alayne’ was doing or what they wanted her to do.

Sansa looked back at her ordinary looking bathroom and then to the mysterious empty metal staircase.

_Do it! Do it, my love. Come and find me._

Taking a deep breath, she stepped through the closet door and disappeared from the view of the cameras. The screen was filled with a cold empty bathroom for approximately one minute before it fuzzed into static, shaky white lines jumping upwards on a background of black. 


End file.
